


Catch the Sun in Flight

by wallhaditcoming



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Adopted Children, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hurt Tony Stark, Identity Porn, M/M, Secret Identity, Superfamily, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark never revealed he was Iron Man
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 09:08:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11986668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wallhaditcoming/pseuds/wallhaditcoming
Summary: Years ago, Tony Stark decided to keep his identity as Iron Man a secret. He's tired of the limelight he was born into. When he discovers that he's dying of Palladium poisoning, he decides to retreat to New York to live as anonymously as he can. The press has documented his entire life. His death should be no one's business but his own.  He knows the world will be in good hands, what with Captain America back from the dead and the new kid on the block, Spiderman, hard at work.But Tony's new neighbor, Steve, is stupidly attractive and seems to like Tony for who he is and not his name.  Steve's adopted son, Peter, is an adorable baby nerd Tony wants to nurture into true geekdom.  As hard as he tries to keep from getting attached, he fails miserably, and leaving two more people behind makes dying even harder.





	Catch the Sun in Flight

**Author's Note:**

> I am still alive! I know it's been ages, but I'm back now, I promise. And I bring new fic! It's been sitting on my hard drive for years, and I found it when I was going through my files and was attacked by feels.
> 
> We're basically ignoring canon from the start of the second Iron Man movie, and throwing in all sorts of things I love. Hopefully you all love them to.

Tony moved into the small Brooklyn apartment once he had his affairs in order.  He had signed the company over to Pepper, he’d given Rhodey a suit all his own, and now he was…he was done.  He took his armor, he took JARVIS, and he took the palladium cores that were slowly poisoning him, and he left.  If he was going to die (and that was a forgone conclusion at this point), he wasn’t going to do it with an audience.

He wore his grungiest band shirt and his rattiest jeans, and while he left most of the heavy lifting to the moving crew he had hired, he insisted upon carrying the last box up himself.

It wasn’t heavy.  It contained all the personal things, the things Tony really cared about.  There wasn’t much in it.  Still, it was awkward enough that Tony couldn’t see where he was going, and he only knew that there was someone on the landing in front of him when he accidentally rammed into them.

Tony let out a grunt of pain as the box dug into his diaphragm.

“Jeez, I’m sorry,” a smooth baritone said as the box was lifted from Tony’s arms.  “I didn’t see you there.  Are you alright?”

“It’s fine.  I’m fine.  Didn’t need my lungs anyway,” Tony wheezed.  Then he caught sight of the man who was holding his box like it was nothing, and he choked on what little air he’d managed to get into his lungs.

Muscles.  Muscles everywhere.   Strong chin, blond hair, full lips, and blue eyes that looked like oceans and all that poetic crap he never usually bothered with.  Holy fucking hell, this man was going on his bucket list.  No question.

“Where were you headed?  Let me carry this for you as an apology.”

“Number 21,” Tony said, pointing past the astoundingly attractive man and into the hallway he had just come from.

“Oh!  You’re moving in across the hall,” the stranger shifted so that the box was under one arm before holding out his hand.  “I’m Steve.  I live over in 24.”

“Tony,” he gripped Steve’s hand and shook it, holding on perhaps a second or two too long.

“Well Tony, let’s get you settled.”

Tony watched with rapt interest as Steve turned around the way he had come, only to have to use what minimal self-control he had not to let out a wolf-whistle or a noise of exultation.  Because  _dat ass_.  Holy fuck, yes.  Bucket list.

Tony, to his regret, had to give up his view in order to open the door to his apartment, but it did give him an excuse to brush up against Steve to do so – the hallway really was very narrow, in his defense.   He opened the door after a few fumbles.  He really wasn’t used to dealing with something as simple as a few metal tumblers and a key.  He made a mental note to work on his security – it wasn’t nearly tight enough, all things considered.  He’d need some sort of voice recognition software, and perhaps he could set JARVIS up to electrocute anyone who wasn’t on an approved list…

“Tony?”

“Sorry, what?”

“Anyplace in particular you want me to put this down?”

“No, wherever,” Tony mumbled, digging around in one of his boxes for a Plexiglas to work on.  “Sorry, I just…work.  Had an idea I need to work out.”

Steve gave him a small, understanding grin.  “No problem.  I’ll just set this here,” a small clanking noise, “and I’ll see myself out.  I’ll be sure to send Peter by later with a housewarming gift.”

“Peter?” Tony asked, his hopes falling.  Infidelity was a big no-no, even when he was on death’s door and faced with a specimen of mankind as perfect as Steve.

“My son,” Steve said with another smile, this one wide and disbelieving.

Tony kissed his dreams of Steve’s ass goodbye.  It was nice while it lasted.  No way he was going to get involved with somebody with a kid, especially not somebody like Steve.  Now that he was looking, he could practically see the white picket fence and the golden retriever.

Tony mumbled some sort of farewell, immersing himself in his plans for his apartment.  It didn’t occur to Tony until almost an hour after Steve had left that he’d never once referred to Tony by his last name or made any reference to Tony’s exploits nor his company.

He made an effort to put Steve, with his ridiculous muscles and his smile and polite-ness and his  _kid_ ,  _Tony, did you miss the part where he has a kid_ , out of his mind.

It worked much better than he was expecting.  He’d managed to install several screens in the areas where he wanted them and had was halfway through rebooting JARVIS in the new system when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in!” Tony called, staring intently at the screen in front of him.

“I come bearing welcome to the neighborhood baked goods,” a young voice said from where the door has been opened just a crack.  “I know Steve said I’d be coming by, but if this is a bad time…”

“Depends.  What kind of baked goods are we talking about here?” Tony asked, turning to face the kid.

A young teen stood awkwardly by his door, a cellophane covered plate in one hand.  He was tall, but in an awkward, gangly sort of way.  His brown hair was long, spiky, and disheveled, and not entirely in the purposeful way.  Square, thick-rimmed glasses perched on the edge of his nose, and they nearly fell off when he caught sight of Tony and promptly began gaping like a fish.

“You…you’re…holy  _shit_ ,” the kid said, eyes blown wide.  In his excitement, he seemingly forgot about the plate he was holding and spent a good half minute fumbling with it before eventually recovering.

“Shh!” Tony said, holding one finger to his lips with a smirk.

“Tony Stark!” he exclaimed with fanboyish glee.  “Your work with renewable energy is just…wow.   And AI’s and robotics?  The little bit of coding you released for the JARVIS system is some of the most brilliant work I have ever seen.”

Tony shot him a sarcastic look.  “Do you not know what the finger means, kid?” he said, holding up the appendage in question and waggling it for emphasis.   Then his brain processed the rest of what the teen had said.  “You read JARVIS’s code?  Really?” Tony was incredulous, bordering on disbelieving.

The teenager babbled enthusiastically in a way that made it clear that he not only read JARVIS’s coding, but had  _understood_  it.  Tony crossed his arms and studied the teenager in front of him with some interest.

“Hey kid…Peter, wasn’t it?”  The boy in question nodded, still looking star-struck.  “You have any pressing appointments later this afternoon?”

“No sir,” he said in a high, slightly unsteady voice.

“Tell you what.  If you let me see exactly what is on that plate you’ve been waving around for the past twenty minutes, I’ll let you see the real thing.”

“Seriously?” he said, and Tony was honestly impressed with how high and squeaky his voice managed to go without the aid of helium.

“Yeah.  I just moved in, and I’m in the process of setting JARVIS up in all the new systems.  No reason not to let you have a peak while it’s happening,” Tony shrugged.  “But not for free.”

“Do you want my soul?  I could give you my soul,” Peter said seriously.  “I’m in high school.  It’d only get crushed anyway.”

“Nah.  If I needed a soul, I’d have made an effort to keep my own.  No, my terms are simple: cookies for code.”

“Done,” Peter said, a wide smile breaking out over his face.  He held the plate of cookies out before him and bowed low at the waist, holding it out as an offering.

Tony felt himself smiling without any conscious effort on his part as he took the proffered baked goods.   He made a show of examining one of the cookies on the plate before placing it in his mouth with a contemplative look on his face.

“Well?” Steve asked from the doorway, where he’d crept up unnoticed.

See, this was why Tony needed to get JARVIS up and running.  Then he wouldn’t have to worry about attractive people sneaking up behind him.  Which, you know, he probably generally isn’t opposed to, but it was the  _principal_  of the thing that…right.  Cookie.  Steve was asking about the cookie.

“I mean, it’s no gourmet cookie,” Tony told him with an attempt at a serious expression.  And that much at least was true.  Tony had gourmet cooking on a fairly regular basis.  “But that’s a good thing.  Gourmet cooking is all this like…saffron and crap.  Trying to put things in a cookie that never belong in a cookie.  I’ll take good old chocolate chip any day of the week.  Or a snickerdoodle.  God, it’s been ages since I had a good snickerdoodle.  But yes, this cookie is fabulous and I would offer to share but they are  _mine_  now and if you wanted one you should have baked extra.  Also, these were bartered for, so unless you’re willing to drag your salivating offspring away from JARVIS’s boot-sequence, these cookies are staying with me.  Actually, no, they’re staying with me even if your progeny is removed.”

There is an awkward silence at that, and Tony can tell he has once again used his superpower of stepping right in the middle of something.

“Peter isn’t…as proud as it would make me, Peter isn’t biologically mine,” Steve managed at last.

“Wha…” Peter said, reluctantly pulling himself away from the console where JARVIS’s code was scrolling across the screen.  His expression was a familiar one – Tony himself had fallen into a code-coma on more than one occasion.  His eyes sharpened.  “Dude, you have to stop being so awkward about that.”

“But I don’t want you to feel as though your parents or your Aunt and Uncle…”

“Steve, chill.  It’s been like…three years.  I know, okay?  And you don’t have to feel bad about it every time someone brings it up in casual conversation.  Also, Mr. Sta…”

“Ah ah ah!” Tony interrupted him, making a zipping motion.  “Call me Tony.”

His fish-impression only lasted half a minute this time around, and then he apparently decided that JARVIS’s code was much more interesting.  “For the record, all Steve does is bake.  Like, every time I turn around, there are more cookies.  If I didn’t know better, I would suspect that they have found a way to reproduce.  Also, Steve, if you try and drag me out of here, I will call Child Services and tell them you are abusing me by denying me my geek-given right to be a code-monkey.  Also, I will blow your concept of ‘kicking and screaming’ out of the water.”

All of this was said without breaking eye-contact with the screen.  Steve just stared at Peter, a small furrow forming between his brows, mouthing the words ‘code monkey’ before shaking his head and turning to face Tony again with a bewildered expression on his face.

“Well, there you have it.  Since I’ve stolen your kid and refuse to share the cookies, is there something else I can get you?  A drink maybe?”

“I don’t drink,” Steve told him with a sheepish grin.

“Jesus Christ, what are you, Mormon?”

“I have a theory,” Peter called over his shoulder, “that he’s the embodiment of all things Good, given human form.  But it’s just to lull us all into a false sense of security so that he can take over the world and infect us all with his Goodness.  It’s a communicable disease you know.  It’s transferred by the disappointed look he gives you.  Also, I think I want to marry this program.”

“My blushes, Sir,” a familiar British voice said.

Peter gave a minuet twitch, but Steve outright jumped, eyes darting as one hand reached up and over his shoulder.

“JARVIS!” Tony greeted him, a bright smile breaking over his face.  “How you doing, buddy?  All settled in?”

“Indeed, sir.  All systems accounted for.  Might I enquire as to the name of my suitor and our other guest?”

The kid, who had been impersonating a fish once again, recovered remarkably.  “Peter Parker.  And I know we haven’t known each other long at all, but I have long admired you from afar.  This is true love.  Can’t you feel it?”

JARVIS, who was already used to Tony’s brand of dry sarcasm, adjusted to Peter’s sense of humor with remarkable speed.  “Master Parker, I am shocked that you think that I’m that sort of AI.  Unlike my creator, I am not easily nor quickly swayed by a pretty face.”

“JARVIS!” Tony gasped with mock indignation.  “These character assassinations are so unlike you.  Anyway, JARVIS, this is Steve, your possible future father-in-law.  Steve, this is my AI, JARVIS.  He ran my old house, and he’ll run this one.  And also probably my life, since Pepper has new responsibilities and JARVIS will have lots of free time, what with the new space.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Sir,” JARVIS intoned, and Tony made a mental note to upgrade the speakers JARVIS was currently using and add several more throughout the apartment.

“Uh…Steve is fine.  And the pleasure is mine, JARVIS.”  Steve was clearly slightly off balance, but he managed to remain perfectly polite despite his disquiet.

“Daaad,” Peter said, “you’re embarrassing me in front of my crush!”

Tony laughed, long and hard.  More than he had in a long time.  And when he stopped, Steve, ridiculously attractive Steve, whose goodness was a deadly weapon and had a kid and probably was as straight as a ruler, was looking at Tony with a small, fond, smile on his face.  Peter, thankfully, was totally and completely absorbed in JARVIS, so Tony didn’t have to worry about whatever his face is doing.

“Well, Steve, while our kids get to know each other better, tell me what I can do for you,” Tony said, wracking his brain for ideas.  Steve helped him move in.  No beer so… “I’m going to order pizza.”  And why had he not thought of this sooner?  He was living in New York now.  All he was going to eat from now until the day he died was pizza.

He gave a sharp, humorless laugh at the thought.  He could do it.  It wouldn’t be that hard.  It wouldn’t even involve that much pizza.  Steve was shooting him an inquisitive, slightly concerned look, which Tony waved away, playing it off as a cough with a simple “Wrong pipe.”

“You helped me move,” Tony offered as an explanation, “and you won’t take beer, so pizza it is.  What’s the best place to order from around here?”

Steve and Peter launched into what is clearly an old debate about two local pizza parlors, and Tony resolved the issue by having JARVIS pick one at random.  He suspected bias when it was Peter’s favorite that was called, but he resolved to save the gentle ribbing for when the neighbors are gone.  The pizza arrived, and they all sit on the floor because Tony’s couches haven’t arrived yet and eat and make small talk and laugh.

When they finally leave at nine because Peter has school in the morning, Tony was surprised to find that the apartment, for all that it was much smaller than he was used to, suddenly felt too big.  And very empty.

* * *

_He’s standing at the podium, Rhodey behind him, the words “the truth is” have just come out of his mouth, and he knows exactly which three words are going to follow._

_The press is staring at him, microphones and cameras collecting everything, notepads and pens taking down even more, all of them just waiting for whatever he says next.  Like they have been his entire life.  Like they always will be.  If he says what he’s planning to say…well, not planning to say.  Tony and planning have never really gone together…if he says what he’s been considering saying for the past four or so seconds, they’ll have that too._

_The media has had every moment of Tony’s life since he was young.  He’s grown up around them, gown up with them around him, trying to document his every move.  Tony…he’s never really had anything private before._

_If he tells them now, Iron Man will become a part of Tony Stark.  And Iron Man…Tony made Iron Man to help him fix his own mistakes.  He is Iron Man, or he wishes he could be.  Iron Man is his atonement, Iron Man is…_

_“The truth is, the Iron Man is a bodyguard in a suit.  Really.”_

* * *

Tony found out Captain America was still alive and kicking (or throwing, as the case may be) when he just barely avoided literally running into the other hero after a particularly violent blast from a weapon sent him careening through a wall.  With the spinning head and the Captain’s new uniform, it took Tony a minute to put all the pieces together.

“Captain America,” Tony said, grateful that the synthesizers made him sound much more collected than he actually was.  “I can honestly say I wasn’t expecting to run into you here.  Or anywhere.  What with you being lost at sea over seventy years ago and all.”

“Iron Man,” the man said with a respectful nod as he helped Tony to his feet with ease.  “It’s long story, and one we don’t have time for now.  You here to lend a hand?”

“Going to be completely honest here, Cap.  This is usually a one man show.”

“I know.  I’ve seen the footage,” the glance he shot Iron Man was full of reproach.  “But now isn’t the time.  What’s your plan of attack?  If you won’t coordinate, at least I can make sure we don’t interfere with one another.”

“My plan  _is_  attack,” Tony informed him primly before shooting a repulsor blast over the Captain’s shoulder at an attacker in the doorway, while Captain America threw his shield in the vicinity of Iron Man’s head.  Tony would have begun shouting, but the armor’s sensors tracked the trajectory of the projectile, eyebrow’s raising in surprise as it ricocheted off a wall and three enemies before returning to the Captain’s outstretched hand.

“Alright, I’m listening,” Tony responded, incredibly impressed despite his own determination to find the Captain infuriating.  “What did you have in mind?"

“These men,” Captain America began, and Tony couldn’t help himself.

“And women, Cap.  A lot has changed since you’ve been sleeping.”

“This organization,” the Captain gritted out through his teeth, and Tony took a perverse joy out of how frustrated he had managed to make the man, “has weapons and tech stolen from SHIELD.  They could use it to do a whole lot of damage.”

Cap’s eyes widened, “Iron Man, down!” he shouted, shoving Tony out of the way as he swung his SHIELD around to block the energy blast from yet another grunt with a grudge.  The blue beam hit the iconic shield, which managed to somehow absorb a great deal of the energy, but not all of it.  The small bit that did rebound hit yet  _another_  goon, who  _disappeared._ He looked as if he’d been  _vaporized._

“What was  _that_?” Tony asked, once again grateful for the modulators.

“HYDRA tech,” Captain America explained, once again hauling the armor upwards, and if Tony thought he looked disapproving  before, then he had no idea what word to use to describe him now.   _Furious_ , perhaps.  “SHIELD was, according to Director Fury, simply storing the weapons.”

“You sound like you believe that about as much as I do.  Which is to say, not at all,” Tony replied as he shot a repulsor blast, dodging easily to the left so Captain America could throw his shield the way Tony knew he wanted to.  “Also, in the interest of full disclosure, these guys also have some Stark Industries tech, from back before the company changed its MO.”

“If they combine the two…” the Captain began, throwing his shield over Tony’s left shoulder as Tony shot a blast with his right hand over the Captain’s.

“Yeah, I’m not really liking the picture that’s painting.”

“You and me both.”

“So, what’s the plan, Cap?  ‘Cause clearly mine isn’t getting us anywhere.”

Captain America smiled.

"Follow me," he said.

It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to know what I'm up to, check out [this](http://wallhaditcoming.tumblr.com/post/164932361052/dae-richards-is-creating-sci-fi-fantasy-and) post on tumblr, and please follow me for lots of rambling and updates about how fic writing is going!


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